The Jack of Hearts (House of Cards Book 1)

Chapter 19 | Hit (part iii)

The Eastern clans, Ihlath, Xoni, and Oberu all arrived within the hour that same evening.

For each arrival Rosalyne was escorted by Kena to the courtyards to greet and be introduced to the guests by moonlight. None of the Cluvani seemed to think of torchlight and so Rosalyne was forced to follow a single pace behind Kena to avoid falling.

They filed back out into the crisp night air and Dys shivered wrapping her shawl tighter around herself.

The tired Oberu slumped through the gates, sleeping children bundled in their parents' arms. Moonlight caught on tight plaits woven against their scalps and the tawny furs wrapped around their shoulders.

Lucas tensed at Rosalyne's shoulder. She felt his stomach tighten with his fingers, though the soldier's face did not flicker.

Lady Dys reached out her hand to touch Lucas' wrist, giving him a light confused squeeze over the leather cuff of his sleeve. The soldier glanced at her before gently pulling his arm away.

Kena escorted them back to the jaquelle's rooms, but before the sun brightened the horizon again, more horn blasts woke Rosalyne from a dead sleep to announce the arrival of the Mawtla.

Dys rolled over and moaned into a cushion.

"Up, up, Jaquelle!" Kena's voice called from the jaquelle's ante-chamber, where she had made herself at home with Clovis and Lucas.

Dys peered up from the cushion to look at her mistress. «Is it my imagining or can I feel her enjoying this?»

Rosalyne threw back the covers and smoothed her hair back from her brow. «I have no doubt.»

The Mawtla guests proved to be the smallest group yet to arrive. Protector Zefla brought only herself and a selection of warriors -- making her the only Protector to leave family at home.

Though Rosalyne did entertain the notion that Protector Zefla was unmarried, it didn't seem likely for a woman of her age. It was then she recalled one of the young warriors who had died had the same head full of braids. Except Zefla twisted hers up on her head like a crown. Rosalyne shook her head - the warrior would have been too young dismissed the thought. Warrior Bomani was likely too young to be Protector Zefla's daughter.

Her question was answered when Ike joined her. Ike was older — probably in his fifties — but it was hard for Rosalyne to tell. Age didn't show on their faces the same way as would Aertisians.

Zefla looked behind Ike with a frown, asking why her niece had not come down too. Ike's face fell, and even without Influence, Rosalyne could see the wash of paternal loss that fell over his expression. As the pair embraced, Zefla caught Rosalyne's gaze and her eyes narrowed with distaste.

In the early hours of the morning, the fort's horns singled the arrival of the final clan and eighth member of the council to arrive.

Rosalyne had not returned to her bed when Protector Zafla and the Mawtla had been escorted to their rooms. It wasn't that Rosalyne wasn't exhausted. Her anger was beyond sleep. Her servants followed her as she wandered the fort while Kena dogged her heels.

"The Guimani are here. Come, Jaquelle it's one more and then you can retire. There are hours yet until their feast of welcome will be prepared and my uncle will have you in a seat of honour at the head table with the council."

The jaquelle paused in her steps to look back at Kena. "Where was that honour upon my arrival? I heard no such horns, no pounding of feet, no feast time bells."

Kena cocked an eyebrow and planted her hands on her hips. "That was entirely different, half of the delegates we sent were dead — dragging with them only three Aerti. Forgive us if our primary concern was divining what the hell happened rather than plying you with food."